


seafoam

by amephos



Category: Houseki no Kuni
Genre: Character Study, Drabble, Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2020-05-14 22:17:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19282294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amephos/pseuds/amephos
Summary: hnk drabble/ficlet collection... updates randomly





	1. Seaglass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nostalgia, sinking beneath the waves.

The sea has always called to Phosphophyllite.

Even before the journey beneath the water depths, even before their fate was so inextricably formed in the sediment of the bed, and weaved between the foamy waves, it has been there. 

Phosphophyllite remembers little, now - Lapis helms their fractured mind, and steers it towards semblances of greater things, worthwhile things - but it is impossible to forget how they felt when they first cast their eyes upon the sea.  
It feels like so long ago, those few hundred years. Time moves so cruelly, twisting and turning and shattering. Phosphophyllite reached their hand towards the sky and tried in vain to grasp the wispy clouds, to pull themselves out of the suffocating sands that could no longer contain them, when a sound resonated beyond their field of vision. 

Turning their head, their eyes filled with those sheeny turquoise waves, their own hue, and something inside them settled like sand at the bottom of their half-formed heart.

Lapis only grants one merciful moment of reminiscing before they cast their eyes up to the heavens, the twinkling opaline lights calling Phosphophyllite’s name just as much as the sea does, and angles their head towards the moon.

“The past is the past. You will always have time for nostalgia. You know what to do.”

Phosphophyllite let Lapis nod their head, and turned their back on the sea, the whispered stories that fill their dreams already caving in.

Lapis was right. They had a job to do.  
The gold that threatened to spill beyond their eyes sunk back into their inclusions, and Phosphophyllite tapped out a rhythm with their heels as they headed towards the school, and their fate.  
It was their duty to drown in the cold fires of the heavens, and the logical rationale of duty. 

In this moment, Phos tried to convince themself, nothing else existed.  
They sunk back into their head and watched in equal measures of zeal and horror as Lapis sat in the throne of their psyche like a forgotten god.

That was all there was, they said, and all that would ever be, and in that moment, Phos believed.


	2. Wistfulness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What do you want?”

‘What do you want?’  
This is the question that Lapis has taken to asking, every time Phosphophyllite closes their eyes and awakens in that strange, marbled land. 

They probably ask because they notice what a myriad of reactions it can induce in them; most of the time, Phos sits pondering, relatively content to sit with their thoughts, but sometimes it irritates them, and sometimes Phos flat out ignores Lapis. 

But occasionally the question silences Phos, in a way that is almost loud in its surrender. This is the reaction Lapis hates most, as it makes them vaguely uncomfortable. Surrender has never been something they enjoyed.

This time, Phos opts for a new reaction. ‘How to phrase it...’ They begin, gathering the threads of a mind resolute, gathering and winding throughout their multicoloured shards.  
‘I want my memories of them to remain as they were, without sadness or regret.’

Phos speaks much more formally in their own, shared head. Though Lapis would never admit it, sometimes they felt slightly honoured for being the only one to experience this side of Phosphophyllite. Regardless, there is no mistaking it, for there is only one ‘them’.

Lapis, who regularly takes pleasure in steeping in stolen memories, nods. ‘What is your happiest memory of them?’

Phos sits back, makes themself comfortable on a swell of ivory. ‘That would be... The day I convinced them to have a mini snow-shaping contest with me. I made a giant snail, whereas they created a shape I’m not familiar with. When I asked them about it, they smiled, and started to tell me about this foreign object they imitated, yet I was barely listening, because all I could think about was how lucky I was to see that smile. And I wasn’t worried because I knew they would repeat what they said if I asked, even twice or three times.’ Phos couldn’t help smiling either, lost in their memory. ‘That is my happiest memory of them.’

Lapis stares at Phos for a minute. It was rare they engage in conversation; even rarer that they give Lapis an entire speech. ‘Huh. I see...’

‘What’s your happiest memory of Ghost and Cairn?’ It was hard to discern Phos’s aims, as per usual; assumably a portion of genuine curiosity and an equal portion of sly analysis. They had learned well.

Lapis, however, was the king of masks, and dons their usual fixed slight-smile. ‘My favorite memory, hmm....’

‘No, I asked for your happiest memory.’

This caught Lapis off guard, and they indulge in a true smile. ‘Ah. I didn’t think you would know the difference.  
'... I’ll have to think about it.’ They would never allow themself to, of course; it was said to placate Phos.

Phos sighs, tiring of their classic evasion, tactics like this getting more obvious each day they spent weaved together. ‘Whatever.’  
They rise and glance around, the eyes they shared with Lapis surveying the horizon. The urge to explore this dreamscape was addictive, but before they could take another step, the air grew still and the line between dream and reality blurred, leaving Phos washed up on the shore of consciousness. They blink a few times in the total darkness, mulling over their most recent encounter with Lapis. 

Phosphophyllite pushes aside the blankets and sits up, moving towards the meshed windows. The stars and moon were as bright as ever, seas of shards in the sky that twinkled like silvery candles. It was here they stayed for a very long time.


	3. Obelisk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dia wished Bortz were a little colder sometimes, so it would be easier to hate them. So they had an excuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haven't updated in a while but I wanted to upload this dia character study... to focus on the darker aspects of their character. god I love dia

Dia was a superb performer, all things considered.

There was nothing more they adored than being the centre of attention. To know that they captivated people. Dia shone the brightest when all eyes were on them, lending them light to be converted into awe and adoring smiles. Having their talents appreciated was satisfying. Addictive, almost.

They could never admit this aloud. It was to stay locked up deep inside their heart along with all of their other shameful secrets. And in the dark of night, when they lay in their plush bed and stared into the bright expanse of stars outside their window, Dia unlocked it quietly and let the secrets linger on their body, blending in effortlessly with the shadows. Envious and lamenting.

 _I'm selfish_ , they had told Phos. Suitably vague, pronounced in that melodic tone they had perfected over the years.

Phosphophyllite, young and lost, unable to stop changing, hurtling towards a final point like an asteroid fixed on earth. Dia wanted to tell them to slow down. Dia wanted to pry them open and search for how they did it, how they achieved the supreme ability to change.

Instead, they smiled wistfully and carried on.

Yes, Dia shined as the stars did, pink and blue and every colour in between, but they were unable to change. Doomed to stay the same, not even granted the luxury of strength. Dia shattered at a moment's notice; a fracture sent them splintering, pieces of themself torn off and flung away. It was tiring. A beautiful shell, pretty and fragile. Suitable for angels, the beings they had read about in Alexandrite's library, but not for the gems. Eventually, the others would stop admiring them, Dia's light fading to a dull sheen. The one thing they feared above all else: Being forgotten.

                                              ____

It happened again.

"Dia!" Bortz roared, as a Lunarian arrow ripped through their shirt, hitting them dead-center and sending cracks resembling veins climbing up their body, falling to the ground with a _thud_. The look in Bortz's eyes was painful, but their eyes didn't linger on Dia, turning back to the Lunarians. When Dia grabbed their sword and tried to stand back up, their leg shattered, but already Bortz was tearing through the Lunarians, a flurry of sharp edges and unforgiving lines. They sat back down, defeated, as Bortz's sword vanquished the last one, cleaving through their body with practised ease.

Dia laid back on the grass and stared up at the sky. It was a brilliant blue, a few wispy clouds travelling across it. Maybe they should join Benito in their habit of cloudgazing when they thought no-one was looking. It might be worthwhile, if the sky was so pretty. If they tilted their head further still, they could see the outline of the crescent moon, faint against the midday sun.

Their thoughts withered as Bortz grabbed a fistful of their shirt and clenched it tight. The worst part was never the lecture, or the anger, but the fear and vulnerability in Bortz's eyes as they surveyed Dia for damage. A perfect soldier, and caring to boot. Dia wished they were a little colder sometimes, so it would be easier to hate them. So they had an excuse.

"This again." Bortz growled.

"I'm sorry." Dia cast their eyes away from Bortz's face, up to the sky again.

Bortz dropped them, letting them fall inelegantly to the ground as the other gems arrived in the distance, ringed around Sensei, their pillar of strength. Dia's eyes followed them, tilting their head against the grass as Bortz stalked over to the rest of the gems. Sometimes Dia wondered if they knew: if they noticed when Dia's gaze lingered on them just a bit too long, if their longing was palpable.

Dia stared at Bortz walking into the distance until they glanced back over their shoulder, and their eyes met. The painful look in Bortz's eyes was still there, and Dia was possessed by a overwhelming urge to soothe them, ease their pain and reassure them (It was impossible not to love Bortz, and Dia had already given up trying). But they were stuck, in every sense of the word.

Instead, they laid back down, and stared up at the big blue sky, and smiled wistfully, and carried on.


End file.
